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Felix is a gifted writer who thinks more quickly and creatively than most. She can craft something insightful and meaningful faster than almost anyone we’ve ever hired. So many readers look forward to her work specifically, and she is insanely easy to work with. We are endlessly lucky to have her on our team.

~Lani Rosales, The American Genius

About Felix

Felix Morgan is a writer, content marketer, online dating consultant, performer, and journalist. She has an *almost* doctoral degree from Texas Tech University where she specialized in communication and psychology with research on people’s relationships with fictional characters and technology.

She’s written content and copy for big brands, startups, and everyone in between. As a journalist she’s written for publications including The Austin Chronicle, Birth. Movies.Death, The American Genius, and Bloody Disgusting. Her fiction and poetry has been published by Lucky Dark, Awst Press, and Tallow Eider Quarterly.

When not writing or marketing you can often catch her on stage as an emcee or performer, usually at literary or storytelling events but once, memorably, as a host for The World Beard and Moustache Championships. She’s also one of the stars of the infamous YouTube show Bad Spirit Animals.

Felix lives in Austin with her two warrior-princess-ninja-superhero daughters and some other wild animals.

With advanced degrees in psychology and communication, I bring a deep understanding of narrative, audience, and positioning as it applies to marketing and content strategy.

I also write about pop culture, film, technology, and science news for various local and national news outlets, provide trainings and seminars on communication, and emcee comedy and literary events in town.

The stories we tell are important. Let me help you tell yours. Email me at felix.n.morgan@gmail.com or connect with me on LinkedIn.

Fiction and Poetry

Morgan plays in the myths and legends of our culture like a child playing in an old abandoned house. She explores the darkness, laughs at the shadows, gleefully celebrates the creepiness, and gingerly dances on creaking wooden floors never fearing she’ll fall. Morgan reuses the known to create the new, giving fresh life to age old terrors and delights. There’s a page-turning and side-splitting thrill to reading her work as the monsters that once hid under our beds now crawl beneath the sheets to draw close to us.

~Owen Egerton

Sex Bob-omb

I was in the back of the cop car trying to explain that no, actually, I do NOT make a habit of giving blowjobs in the bathroom of east side bougie Italian restaurants when I realized he was about to blow again. My boyfriend has a condition, okay? It has some sort of science-y name even though its like super rare, like so rare they had to get out the fat dusty actual books and look up how diagnosing used to happen in like ancient papa new guinea or some shit but I just called him my sex bob-omb.

For one thing, hearts were gross. Bloody and heavy. He stared at the mess in his hands. It was big, bigger than he thought it could be, and it beat with a steady sleepy rhythm. He was naked. In whats- her-name’s bed, which was covered in some gauzy crap and fucking twinkle lights. He was in a fairyland hell. Blood was seeping down his forearms now, but somehow seemed to be invisibly pumping life to the girl laying next to him…